Hands To Hold
by Lana Aurelius
Summary: Series of drabbles revolving around the Doctors hands and what they mean to Rose. Just editing ready for the sequal.
1. Chapter 1

He'd taken her hand and told her to run.

It had all started with that hand. That warm solidity holding on to her, saving her, giving her a reason. Those hands were all she could think of for so long. He'd jumped into her life, saved it by giving her his hand, and they'd never looked back.

She'd never looked back.

The hand was rough and calloused, like a mans hand should be. Well worked and strong, but she knew that with her, it would always be nothing but gentle.

Unlike the hand attached to the arm that he had ripped from the Auton. Smooth and glossy, yet an immense danger.

She decided then and there, for this man, she'd take the rough over the smooth any day.


	2. Chapter 2

He offered his hand when she had realised the loss. The loss of a planet and nobody had been looking. She had been upset.

He'd taken her hand. She'd still been upset, but had felt a little stronger. His hand was apologetic and understanding, exactly what she needed, exactly when she had needed it.

He was like that.

Always knowing.

Always caring.

Always hers.

He'd led her away, back to the planet that nobody had watched go. Too busy saving themselves.

He'd explained, and she'd understood the best she could. And she'd never looked at things the same way again.

Her entire outlook had changed, because he'd taken her hand in his.


	3. Chapter 3

They were in a basement, a dungeon, a morgue. Surrounded by the walking dead.

How could she die when she hadn't even been born yet? Was that even possible? It was crazy, and stupid and it shouldn't be happening at all.

But again, he took her hand. That large hand, so much stronger and steadier than her own. He'd explained before how his temperature was lower than hers, and that was why he was cold to the touch, but she never understood that. His hand never felt anything but warm to her.

He had interlocked his fingers with hers, and despite the futility of the situation, she had been able to smile, to draw heat and joy from that simply contact.

About to die and that hand in hers had allowed her to smile.

He always made her smile.


	4. Chapter 4

The only person on planet Earth who new that aliens and all the other amazing things existed.

And then the spaceship came and crashed. That was so unfair. But it was good, and it was fun.

He took her hand and they ran. Curiosity, excitement, childish joy coursing through the both of them. Another great adventure just waiting to be had.

Fantastic.

He laughed, and his hand was happy. It wasn't the end of the world this time, or the imminent end of their lives. This was something new. No need for comfort. Just happiness and the thrill of the exploration of the new and exhilarating.

His hand in hers, elation.


	5. Chapter 5

So scared.

So very scared.

Sat in a cupboard, holed up with the Doctor and Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. About to die. Probably. Almost certainly. But somehow, unlikely because he's taken her hand once again.

Faced with insurmountable odds.

But aren't they always. That's the way of her life now. And despite the odds, they always come through, triumphant.

They will succeed. They have to. Because his hand is in hers, and its strong and warm and safe. He will protect her until his dyeing breath, and that's what he communicates. He gives her his safety and his strength. Because that is what she needs.

Always giving exactly what she needs.


	6. Chapter 6

Watching his fingers as they stroked the length of the alien musical instrument, bringing forth beauty and peace to the chaos.

Gentle. Like he was with her. But he was never quite this gentle.

This was a caress.

It was almost embarrassing to watch.

Sensual…

Kind of intimate.

Something that she would never expect from him.

And then somehow she wished, knowing full well that she shouldn't, that he would touch her like that. That intimate, sensual caress. Gentle and awed.

But she knew that would never happen, and she was content with that. She would never feel his hands on her, not like that. But he would offer her his fingers again. And she would accept them, grateful for all she could have of him.


	7. Chapter 7

Stood in the lift, about to go up to floor 500. Somebody up there must like him.

His hand, despite his information to the contrary was warm and cheerful, all about the adventure. Much different from earlier. One hand on her shoulder and one hand on Adams shoulder. It was patronising and it felt like a brush off.

But this is back to how it should be. No new boyfriend hanging around. He's off coming to terms with it all. Pretty boy.

She's here with her Doctor, getting in to the thick of things, living life, getting to the root of the mystery, solving, saving, both together, hand in hand.


	8. Chapter 8

And she was sorry.

So very very sorry.

But his hand on her face. Warm and forgiving. Her anchor.

The world was being eaten up around her and she was so sorry.

His warm hand, always gentle with her, always warm instead of cool, like he'd told her he should be, cupping her cheek and promising her a way out. Everything was going to be all right because his hand was on her face and his eyes were looking into hers. He smiled, and the fear and uncertainty melted away.

His hand told her so much.

A man, never divulging the secrets of his hearts through words, but through his gentle touch.

His smile, with his hand on her cheek, meant salvation.

The hope in the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Her hand held in that of a stranger. A smooth one, hand and man. The charmer. He'd taken her hand and they'd danced to Glenn Miller.

He'd been talking…she was sure he'd been talking about…something. His hands were flirty, full of promises and sweet seductions. Nothing like the Doctor.

Swaying to the music on top of a space ship tethered to Big Ben for some reason, right in the middle of a German air raid, the height of the London blitz.

His hand, smoother than the Doctors, not as rough and worked, yet still undeniably strong. A temptation.

Sometimes she just gets swept off her feet.


	10. Chapter 10

Twice they'd danced today. The first, his hands were curious. Not a cut not a bruise. He was confused and pressing for information. And he was jealous. Turning her hands over in his. Jealous of the Captain, and it felt good.

The second time they danced, in the Tardis, disaster averted, he was happy and merry. Taking control of her, once he'd found his feet that is.

Right at the end of his legs, just where he'd left them.

His hands, no longer warm, but hot with joy and exhilaration.

And especially at the dip, possessive. No Captain was going to cut in and take her away from him.


	11. Chapter 11

The three of them. The team. The posse. Off they go, through time, and space.

Carefree and full of joy. They'd given out high fives. Nothing could bring them down. The moods were good and the happiness flowing. He'd got used to the Captain by now. Free to tease and ready to flirt.

No longer possessive.

Comfortable.

At ease.

Afterwards, walking away from the Tardis, she'd been jumping around, excited at the prospect of exploring. She'd grabbed his hand and he had basked in her contentment. Despite his calm demeanour, he had been happy to let her experience the energised thrill by his side.

Always happy to have her there.

She loved the unknown. He loved how she loved the unknown.

She held his hand and he found new delight in the universe, seeing it through her eyes.


	12. Chapter 12

So scared. So very scared.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She'd lost. It was illegal…and wrong…immoral. It shouldn't…it couldn't be happening.

She ran towards him.

If only she could get to him, have him take her hand like that first time so long ago. They'd run and he'd save her and it would all be all right again. He had to save her…he just had to.

He made things all right.

So close to him. Not very far at all, yet the distance stretched out and she felt so far away. She just needed a little longer.

She needed his hand. Make her feel safe.

Anything to have that rough calloused hand feeling gentle and warm in hers again.

So close…his hand…needed it…then the beam hit her.


	13. Chapter 13

His hands, supporting her. All of time and space in her head, the time vortex, running through.

She brought life.

The sun and the moon. The day and night. They hurt. She could see everything. All the ifs, all the whats, all that ever could be.

She saw what he saw everyday, but it was killing her.

So he stood in front of her, embraced her, arms around her to support and steady her, understanding her. And he kissed the divinity from her. Hands holding on, never going to let her come to harm from the transcendence overpowering her. He'd take it away with a kiss, her life in his hands.

He'd save her a million times if he had to, his glowing goddess.


	14. Chapter 14

His hand.

So different to before.

Standing there, ash falling all around, masquerading as snow.

The wiggle of the fingers. An invite. Stay or go. He would never hold it against her if she did. But he was offering himself to her yet again. But could she accept? This man who looked so different yet insisted he was the same.

She took his hand.

It was what they had always done, but this was new, different, like the man, a beginning.

Smoother.

Less worked.

No rough patches, not a single callus. The grip was new too. Still strength behind it, but a new strength. Unfamiliar yet just as it always had been.

She'd go with him. She always would.

The hand felt cold in hers. He, the old he, had never felt cold to her before. This new one though, he'd been cold from the start. But now he was slowly his cold, as her trust grew again. She just hoped the warm would come back, it had to, she couldn't live without it.


End file.
